


Three Blind Mice

by ClaraLaClarividente



Series: The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men Often Go Awry [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angry Qrow, F/F, F/M, Gen, Jacques Schnee appears only to be ignored again, M/M, Semblance evolution, Team JYR is mentioned, Vine/Elm implied, everyone is under a lot of stress, nobody on Salem's team know what to call Oscar except for Hazel, they are very confused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28656165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraLaClarividente/pseuds/ClaraLaClarividente
Summary: Atlas is under attack, and Ironwood's military is overworked and desperate. Chaos and confusion can lead to overlooking the simple things, but a small screw in a machine can be damaged, and in time the whole system comes to resent just one small cog.
Relationships: Elm Ederne/Vine Zeki
Series: The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men Often Go Awry [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087559
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Three Blind Mice

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the second installment of "The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men Often Go Awry", and it is taking place at the same time of my other fanfic "Out of the Fire and Into the Frying Pan". I shall be uploading chapters once a week for the series, and you will come to see they complement each other in some ways. I hope you enjoy this second installment of the series.

One Blind Mouse

Neopolitan kneeled a sideways to Emerald in what Salem called her throne room, which was a very generous descriptor. It was the empty space of the whale Grimm’s sonar cavity, thus making each and every sound overwhelming and stifling to Neo. It was specially disturbing to hear the rattled breath of the teen the Hound had brought over, and that had been macerated in blood and punches by dear ol’ Hazel. She looked over at Hazel and scrunched her nose, around her she saw so many unnatural things- Salem’s grey and veiny body she insisted upon showing, the Grimm arm that Cinder sported and seemed to have a mind of its own, and then Hazel’s supernaturally buffed… everything. He was shredded in quite the worst possible ways, and even his ribs (which he loved to show with his no-nothing vest) seemed to be ripped. She looked at Emerald, the only normal looking person of the bunch, but tutted in her mind. The girl followed Cinder like a hungry, lost puppy, and it was a sad sight to experience every day.

Neo rolled her eyes, ‘ _Roman would have bullied this girl until she ran back to Cinder’s skirts._ ’, this thought brought her mirth, but she quickly looked down and away. Salem seemed to sense happiness, and Neo was not about to be under the wicked witch’s spotlight. She looked to her left and stiffened: talking about being in an unwanted spotlight…

The Hound, a much more monstruous version of a Beowulf that Salem seemed to enjoy experimenting on, sniffed at her. Curious or hungry, Neo did not know nor cared to find out. The creature quickly found out that Neo was nonplussed with its presence and decided to annoy Emerald instead. _‘Huh, talk about being rabbit-hearted.’_ The green haired girl stiffened and looked at the creature with her eyes wide and terrified, trying to move her kneeling position farther for the thing. It was not necessary, because Salem decided to hurt Cinder with the Grimm arm and the Hound very happily-like a dog- padded over to observe the suffering the Fall Maiden was put through.

Neo thought that it was disgusting in its own way to see the arm bend over backwards and claw at the floor in pain. She was getting tired of this, Cinder messing something up, and Salem seemingly electrocuting her with the arm. This, she and Roman, did not sign up for.

“Go to Atlas. Recover Watts, he can lead you to the girl. Whether you or my Hound get to her first, you will finally get the Winter Maiden’s power, and I will have my staff.” Salem enthused, smiling triumphantly over a heaving Cinder.

_‘Great… getaway taxi driver job again…’_ , Neo sighed dejectedly, for she knew how it was gonna go: drive Cinder around, help her camouflage amongst the Atlas military swarming Ironwood’s compound, get the robot’s power, the staff, and then! Cinder will give her no credit for what she just did. Classic Cinder. Wonderful working-

“You will only help her bring about the end-for all of you!”, cried the teen, Ozma (?), who was promptly shoved face first into the throne room steps. Neo thought her mutism did come in handy sometimes.

Salem just chuckled at the boy’s outburst and held his chin. “Ozma, Ozma, Ozma. Husband dearest, as always such impeccable timing with your little outbursts.”, her long fingernails sank into his skin, enough force in her clutch to draw blood. The kid just glared at her in disdain, not saying anything, but his eyes expressed a vibrant defiance. 

Neo was given no time to ponder on the disgusting, weird, just-not-right fact that the kid was called Salem’s husband, which is ten degrees of wrong and eleven of disturbing: no matter if you are a criminal or street rat, a respectable felon has their boundaries. Roman is just lucky he did not get to live to see the inner circle of the cult he had unwittingly joined-she knew that this gig of getting stinking rich real fast real soon was a scam from the beginning.

Salem ushered everyone out: Tyrian and Mercury went packing their bare necessities for their trip to Vacuo (‘ _good riddance’_ ), Hazel grabbed the kid, Ozma, Salem’s H-word ( _‘fucking yikes’_ ), by the lapel of his tattered jacket and left to keep punching the answers out of him, while Emerald lingered about, unsure. She looked at the girl with pity, it was just plain sad.

“Take me to the prisons.”, was all that Cinder said to Neo, before bellowing out of the room, her black cape covering her limp arm. Emerald scurried after her, but Cinder just lifted her flesh hand, and glared at the green haired girl, who shrank upon herself and slinked to someplace unnoticed.

The trip to the hangar was silent as usual, tense like always, and heavily monitored by the Seer Grimm that floated about the hallways. Neo was used to the hard life, enduring much just to see another day, do what she must to find enough sustenance to keep her going, and enough allegiances to keep a roof over her head at night. But this was so far removed from what she wanted at first, the risks overtaking the few benefits she had. She couldn’t even kill Ruby Rose and find vindication to the terrible fate that befell her only friend, the only companion she could trust- that was Salem’s kill, not hers anymore. She had to settle for petty fights, thievery here and there, and only when called upon.

Upon reaching the hangars, she erased the thoughts from her mind. Neo was nothing if not a polite and professional criminal, and she had a reputation to uphold. At least to herself. She glared at the fighter jet, the only thing she could safely look at wrong and not get killed in an instant. It looked exactly like the common Atlesian aircrafts, and thus carried in its composition what General Ironwood liked best: practicality, aerodynamic composition, and seats so uncomfortable that you looked like you had a stick up your ass at all times.

With practical ease, she opened the canopy of the fighter, and jumped into the cockpit, preparing the flight settings and coordinates to the Atlas Military Compound. Once Cinder sat in her seat behind Neo, the canopy folded shut and the rumbling of the engines began to purr. Everything set, she took off, like always, without a warning. And once in the air, the Fall Maiden’s favorite activity during jet flights began: nagging about losing to Ruby Rose, or to the ginger robot, or how she had been so close to take the Maiden powers from a comatose elderly woman, and so on, and so forth.

All this came with Cinder’s infuriating habit of rhythmically scratching Neo’s seat, just above her left shoulder. The Grimm arm was disturbing, and it being in close proximity with her neck and shoulder made Neo feel vulnerable. But she was a master in shielding her emotions, and keeping them shut tight: she was not gonna give Cinder any indication of what happened inside her head. Not like Cinder would want to know anyways, after all, Neo was just “another asset”.

Still, in Neo’s opinion, it was stupidly distracting, so she did her best to cope with these types of situations. Cinder’s penchant for never wearing a seatbelt, and one of Neo’s well placed barrel rolls really did the trick to shut up the Fall Maiden and keep the grumbling to a bearable minimum, and that ugly claw under its cape.

Soon, Neo entered landing range, and helping herself with the madness of ships coming and going, she imperceptible. Entry to the Atlas Military hangar had gone without a hitch, the place looked like a wasp hive on fire, and no one even bat an eye to them. They had chosen to disguise themselves like low-ranking soldiers, wanted only to be unseen and unheard. They jumped out of their ship, quickly went into the barracks for their next step.

Two Blind Mice

The ride back to the barracks had gone as well as they could have, with Marrow and Winter hovering near the gigantic whale making sure the bomb was delivered as per ordered, Elm let her shoulders sag for a second. General Ironwood, having accepted Specialist Schnee’s request for team JYR to deliver the bomb, decided that the remaining Ace Operatives were to go back to base, wrangle Watts into finding the hacked Winter Maiden, and secure Atlas. Atlas Academy seniors, team FNKI, were to rendezvous with them at the Academy so their searching party would go easily, yet another babysitting appointment that Elm did not particularly look forward to. The only consolation she had was that at least Atlas students were better behaved than the Beacon ones, who were wildcards and their temperaments not appropriate for such missions, at least not yet. The potential was there, she even thought that they were a little bit like them when they were their age. But she began having missions like these later in life, after her three years in the Atlas Academy for Hunters. In her opinion, they shouldn’t have ever let them have as such a long leash as they had with them, but hindsight is 20/20, and regret solves nothing in the throes of war.

Elm looked to the cockpit; Harriet was still fuming after her interaction with Lie Ren. In deeper thought, he was right, they are nothing like team RWBY. There is nothing original or special about them nowadays. The younger operative is just as stubborn and candid as she herself had been a few years prior. She shook her head, entertaining such melancholic thoughts did nothing good for her, she just had to keep going, for the greater good.

“I guess we are getting new team members after this.”, Harriet spat the words ‘team members’ like they were poison in her mouth, her arms crossed and her eyes glaring at the horizon. Elm raised her eyebrow at her teammate, exasperation welcomed back into her chest.

“You are not implying what I am thinking, Harriet.”, at this, Vine put the fighter jet into autopilot, his entire attention on Harriet.

“What? Am I saying Winter and Marrow’s gonna die? Uh, yeah.”, Elm shook her head slowly, her mouth forming into a thin displeased line. “Do you really think those Beacon children are going to actually detonate a bomb with no help? Much less get inside of the thing! Like always, we”, Harriet jabbed a finger to her chest, still angry and reeling from Winter’s warning. “have to pick up the slack, fix their messes. They aren’t made for this. There’s a reason Beacon fell, isn’t it.”, Vine held a long-suffering gaze with Elm, his demeanor seemed calm, but knowing him for so long, she knew he was beginning to get annoyed.

“You do know that Marrow’s not even that older than them, right? They can probably hold their own.” She said, drumming her fingers on her crossed arms.

“Marrow’s immature. Look at him, he’s like a kicked puppy when he is not included. He thinks he has to be in everything. Well, there he goes! Holding on the kids’ failure to get himself killed. Bravo!” Harriet’s voice raised with each word, her lips, a bitter smile.

“Well, after what you said to him? How’s that for a last impression of his teammates?”

“I stand by what I said. He’s nothing but a replacement. And my feelings, or his, or anyone’s on this ship matter. The job matters, that’s all we have to do.”

“Yeah, and what about Tortuga, huh? That came out of nowhere.” Elm crossed her legs at the knee, leaning into the frigid metal wall behind her. The cold from outside, coupled with the altitude and winds, seeped into the alloy, cooling her down just enough to keep her calm.

“What about Tortuga? What about Clover! He just died, and we got Little Miss Perfect Specialist Schnee lumped with us!” In her outburst, Harriet punched the wall of the ship, denting it a bit, but otherwise doing nothing but to stoke her anger.

“Do you really think you can feel entitled to cry and sigh about his death?!” Elm pointed at Vine and then herself before continuing. “Only Vine and I remain of the original line up. You? Tortuga? You two came in, fresh out of school, just like Marrow, to replace Steppa and Oxalis! Us five were the actual Ace Ops! And you think you can just feel like you own this thing? You haven’t even been here for five years!”

Vine clenched his fists, resuming his position as the pilot. Trying to ignore the squabble behind him, he let his thought wander back to simpler times, when he was young, and Elm was too. Back to the rich moments of fighting with Clover as their leader, when luck never seemed to run out. When their team of five, a special group handpicked by the very General himself, were the only ones in Atlas to defend her and her people. In his mind’s eye, he remembered what they were:

Steadfast and smiling Elm, who supported him in his shyness, who worried about his weight and asked him if he had eaten well after his meditations. Or Clover, and his twin sister Oxalis Ebi, both crackheads and boisterous as twins come. Or Steppa, their arctic fox faunus strategist, who was serious yet had a caring personality under his stoic façade. Team CEVOS spent ten incredible years filled with intrigue, adventure, justice, and upholding the Atlesian values they so loved. Together, they felt like they could eat the world raw, they saw so much of Remnant, they fought for their ideals, and apprehended dangerous criminals, while securing the safety of the people.

It all changed one day in the frozen lakes of Solitas’ tundra: a fairly easy mission: a drug bust gone wrong. They were overconfident, relied too much on Clover’s semblance, and in one fell swoop, they lost their family, their friends. Things had never been the same after, none of them could ever go back to what they were. Clover’s began collecting junk that he said made his semblance stronger, and Elm… well, she was just indifferent to him.

It had happened too fast, between their deaths and their new teammates’ insertion to the Ace Operatives. Over time it was easier to become numb, just do their job, follow the orders from upstairs. And then, today, their collective luck, ran out.

Vine is wrenched from his memories by the harried voices in his comm-link, asking him for his credentials in annoyance. He had arrived within landing range of the military compound, all while daydreaming of the past. He looked at Harriet and Elm, who were still disputing behind him, and sighed tiredly.

“We´ve arrived.” He said standing up and patting his uniform of nonexistent filth. He fixated his penetrating gaze with Harriet’s angry eyes. “You and Tortuga were brought in after both Clover’s twin and our strategist were dragged under the ice by a Schylla type of Grimm. We did not get to mourn them.” His voice was firm and severe, a tint of ire underlying his words. He turned to Elm, his hand a familiar comfort and bond; his gaze softened at her bewildered expression. “What makes you think we were the original Ace Operatives in the first place?”

He walked out of the ship immediately after landing, wordlessly going to the locker rooms to change his uniform into something dryer. He looked back before entering, making sure they had gone to their respective locker rooms, and did not speak to them, until very much later.

Three Blind Mice

To say that Atlas Military Academy and Compound were in complete utter disarray, would be an understatement. Students mixed with low rank soldiers were sent off in ship after ship to the rich citadel of Atlas, putting the safety of citizens first and foremost. A big chunk of them went to the subway systems, some were sent to knock on doors and get the last stragglers packing to their government designated safe houses, and a few other were sent to fend off the Grimm attack on the streets. The latter group was dwindling in size due to the nonstop onslaught of nightmarish creatures of Grimm that just did not seem to stop, but there was no time to mourn the losses that littered the street. 

The Atlas main military base was barely holding on at the seams: several soldiers and operatives kept swarming the hangars with the wounded, asking for more munition, and some were fighting amongst themselves. Even Ironwood’s steel grasp on his soldiers was reaching a dangerous melting point. And though it seemed like a hive on fire, the prison where they held high profile felons ran its business as usual. Once they had already broken the soul of their inmates, it was easy for the prison guards to go on about they daily lives. That was what Robyn surmised the moment she was walked through winding corridors to her prison cell, and what she thought would never happen to her. She was too headstrong, and her heart beat solely for justice to be imparted. Her faith in her Happy Huntresses gave her the strength necessary to keep her head held high, she knew they will do their best to keep things in place. The Beacon kids were probably also helping them out; the more the merrier after all.

Robyn glanced at the man sitting listlessly against the holographic walls of the cell. His long legs thrown about the floor, and his eyes focused on the metal pin in his hands. He looked like hell, dark purple bags under his eyes, red and guilty for a crime he did not commit; humiliated, and left to rot by the last friend he had left. Robyn felt sympathy for him. He seemed like his entire world turned upside down, and not like the snobby rich people from Atlas. This was a man broken many times, who knew the bitterness of the world, who dared to believe that hope was worth fighting for, and who, for better or for worse, made his allies in whom he thought would help bring that hope back. She knew what it was to not trust in nobody, but her girls taught her that she could, only if she chose well. Robyn understood Qrow, how a semblance can be interpreted as a threat to others, and how after so many people look at you over their shoulder, you learn to do the same.

The betrayal in his face when Clover decided to fight him, instead of that insane faunus, it had hurt. And when the Ace Ops leader died? She knew the pain he felt was real. Respecting people’s boundaries was never a privilege she could ever choose to have, her need for skinship thwarted by her semblance. In that holding jet, she knew that his pain was true, felt his reality on her fingertip, and saw herself. Robyn felt resolute: she and Qrow, they were on the same boat, and they needed to get out of this storm.

“Hey, Five O’ Clock, any ideas?” Her question did not garner much attention from him, but she was used to the shell-shocked numbness of indescribable grief, so she got closer, and louder. She walked to the transparent wall dividing them and reiterated her question once more but higher.

Qrow jolted and looked at her through the plasma barrier, eyes wide and confused.

_‘Well, there’s someone home in that head of his, who would have known.’_

“Ideas?.” Qrow let a self-deprecating chuckle. “Had lot of ‘em, but all exploded right in my face. Just like always” He clenches the bloodied pin, feeling its edges dig into his palm. “But if I could? I’d go for the bastard who put me in here.” Robyn nodded, prepared to do whatever must be done, but slow clapping stopped her from telling Qrow as much.

“Oh, excellent! I admire your guts, birdies, but how are you gonna make it out of here, huh?” Watts interrupted, leaning lackadaisically against the plasma wall of his cell. “They took your toys too! Woo hoo, woe babies, got into a fight and sent to timeout? Whatever will you two do?”, he sneered, jeering at them with his closed fist over his eyes, wiping nonexistent tears.

Qrow just looked at him nonplussed while Robyn just flat out refused to acknowledge his presence.

“Judging by that huge bruise of yours, I’d say the General got you good.”, the black-haired man pointed at Watt, his bruise was almost taking over the right side of his face.

“Yet here you are, breathing the same air as me. Funny, isn’t it?” In a blink of an eye, Qrow rushed at the barrier that separated him from Watts, who only chuckled and smoothed out his mustache.

“Unlike you, _I_ don’t have birdseed for brains. I actually have a plan to get out of here. Any moment now.” Qrow growled at the man in frustration, dejectedly punching the barrier.

“Hey, c’mon Qrow, he’s just trying to get a rise from you. Don’t let him get to you.” Robyn enthused. “Don’t give him the pleasure to annoy you.”

“Ah, but Miss Hill, I am certain that my time here is almost done. I am just chitchatting while I wait to get picked up! No need to be so cold!” She looked at the man in disgust, and sat back on the bench, looking at the sliding doors. Robyn looked back at Qrow, who had resorted to go to the farthest corner in the cell away from Watts and fixated his red gaze upon the door.

They lost track of time once again in their waiting. Robyn noted that it was weird that the guards by the sliding door did not change shifts, but she also surmised that time slugged on like a snail when you were in jail.

Her thoughts circled back to their issue at hand: General Ironwood had forsaken Mantle, the people she had vowed to protect, and she helped him. Guilt ate at her slowly, but she stood firm in her belief that things would move back around. Her Huntresses were without a doubt doing what they could to keep the citizens of Atlas safe. And the Beacon kids, they were hardier than they all thought, if they were reported as wanted, she was sure they had escaped the clutches of Ironwood. The only thing she could do at this moment was to wait for a chance, however minimal, to escape, and do what she can to protect the people she loves.

Finally, the sound of the sliding doors opening brought back Robyn from her musings. Three of the Ace Operatives walked into the holding cells, looking over at their persons of interest. Without a word, they moved quickly about the room. While Elm kept guard over the entrance, Vine prepared his handcuffs in front of Watts’ cell, waiting for Harriet to call turn off the holographic barrier containing the scientist.

Watts stood up quickly and dusted himself off, sneering at everyone in the room “Well, goodbye birds, been a true pleasure, really.” He then turned to the Ace Operative in front of him. “You can’t find the Winter Maiden, so you’ve come for my help. Ha!” Vine just rolled his eyes at the man in front of him and turned to Harriet, prodding her to hurry with his gaze. Upon Harriet lowering the barriers, Watts presented his wrists to the tall Ace Ops, and followed him out of the cell.

Behind Watts, Jacques Schnee began slamming his fists on the barrier, seemingly shouting but remaining silent altogether. The pale man was screaming at the top of his lungs, and his face and ears had become flushed and almost purple with the exhertion. With a raised brow, Harriet moved to the control panel that accessed the cell’s individual properties and found the volume gauge. Instantly, the man’s voice could be heard, and they all wished they didn’t.

!-CKING STUPID? I AM TALKING TO YOU! LET.ME.THE FUCK OUT YOU ATLAS SCUM! I AM JACQUES SCHNEE AND I AM YOUR ELECTED LEADER!” Feeling all eyes on him, Jacques halted his assault on the barrier, and fixed his tie as he cleared his throat. “I am warning all of you, take me someplace else, away from these…riffraff.” Qrow crossed his arms and looked at the disheveled dust mogul.

“I was wondering why you were so quiet all this time. Kinda wish they put you back on mute, though.” The scythe wielder looked at the Ace Ops, noting the absence of their other teammate. Harriet caught him staring and forced out a sarcastic chuckle.

“What? Looking for Marrow? Are you planning on killing him too?” she scoffed at him, riling Qrow up with her snide remark. Qrow stalked to the wall separating him from the scowling Ace Operative, his fist punched the wall right in her face, but she did not falter.

“I. Did. Not. Kill. Clover.”

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t give a shit, drunkard.” He narrowed his eyes at her, it was a low blow, especially because in all honesty, he had begun to change for real. But Harriet was hurt, and she wanted to add injury to insult. “Anyways, Marrow’s not here. He’s waiting with Winter near this huge Grimm, and guess what. Schnee’s gonna have to go in and fix whatever mess your kids do inside it. And they aren’t coming back from that, just like Clover.” Qrow furled his fists tighter, rage at the mention of ‘his kids’.

“What the fuck are you talking about!?”

“Harriet, no. Wait, don’t-“ Elm started from the doorway, but was interrupted by Harriet.

“Just know, that if it weren’t for Jaune, Yang and Ren, we would be delivering a bomb to be detonated inside Salem’s huge, disgusting whale. And you, are going to stay here, and do nothing to about it.” Qrow screamed in anguish and rage, flinging his bench over to Harriet. The bench reached the barrier of the cell and bounced back, but the wall didn’t budge. Elm took Harriet’s forearm in her strong grasp, but Harriet brushed her off.

Robyn was shocked, and slammed her fist on the wall, getting Harriet’s attention. “Did Ironwood seriously order you to go on a suicide mission?!” Sadly, she knew the answer before Harriet could react to her question. Harriet only smirked and held her gaze, triumphant, over Qrow’s wrecked glare. “You are cowards! It could have been you, but you chose others to carry your burden. You are as bad as Ironwood. Just like you are doing with Mantle, leaving millions to die only to save the few Atlas asses that live in their tiny bubble!” She reproached at them, feeling disgust fill her soul.

“Better to trade three lives for the greater good, instead of crying about it.”

“Vine?! Where-where are you going?” Elm’s voice broke the tense moment, bringing attention to Vine who had begun to inch Watts to the doors. The tall man stopped dry on his tracks and peered at her through calm eyes. Elm groaned irritated by her teammate’s actions, she felt like she was holding the whole operation together by the soles of her feet. She turned to Harriet and dragged her with her. “Stop it. There was no need to be so cruel, Harriet. What’s wrong with you today?” Then turning to Vine, who stood silent holding Watts by the lapel of his jacket, “We have to take this other idiot to the interrogation room, can’t you wait a moment?” she huffed as she hauled Harriet and stood with Vine, shooting a questioning glance, which he countered with a blank look around. Turning to the guards, she instructed them, “Keep an eye on the angry one, and keep me updated on the guard shift.” The guards saluted effusively, and so, Elm carried on to her destination, her pulse beating awkwardly in her chest.

The room was silent after the doors swished closed, save for Qrow’s laboured breathing. His fist became lax, and dropped Clover’s pin, where it stayed forgotten. He stared in shock and terror at his trembling hands, and an image came to him. Just after being born, and abandoned by Raven, Yang’s small headful of golden hair nuzzled in his palm. Her entire body fit in his hands, snuggled in her purple blanket and with her little fists balled up in the fabric. He had never had any children, but he felt how Yang made his heart catch on fire, with how perfect she was, and he thought that perhaps that’s how parents felt.

He did not cry, but a spring of tears fell freely from his eyes. They could harm him, maim him, imprison him for crimes he did not commit, kill him even; he did not care at all. But Ironwood decided to endanger the only things he cared about in the world, the only things that kept him alive, and that was unacceptable. He turned to Robyn, the pain and anguish he felt were going to be nothing compared to what James was going to feel, and it showed in his eyes.

“We are getting out of here, Qrow. I don’t know how, but we will find a-“ she began, but stopped, surprised at the sound of something smashing as a tile in Qrow’s cell fell from the ceiling. When she looked up, she recoiled. The man’s aura was a red miasma that grew in size, alerting the guards to Qrow’s mounting rage. One of them pointed his weapon at him, but the other man pushed his comrade’s blaster down, shaking his head.

“What’s he gonna do? That cell prevents anything coming from inside ever touching us, or something from out here from ever getting in there.” He clarified, trying to quell his companion’s sudden defensive reaction.

But Qrow’s aura only intensified, and with it, things began to fall out of place, little by little. A screw here and there turning itself outside of the gauge it was screwed shut, the floor tiles around him began to darken as if soiled by time and years of neglect. Suddenly, the steel coverings in the panels that made up the wall reinforcements in the holding room began to chip away and rust. His red eyes were bright with tears, and as he focused on the control panel that powered the barriers, it let out an electrical sizzle as it sparked uncontrollably. He looked at the guards.

“This.” And the power went off, the hum of electrical power than seemed to permeate every room and corridor in Atlas’ military base was lost. Darkness befell the room in its entirety.

Elm fell behind her team on the way to the interrogation rooms, pondering about what just transpired in the holding cells. Harriet seemed nonplussed about the fact that she personally attacked a man like she just did, hanging over his head the threat of his niece being sent on a suicide mission. She did not like being called a coward, but the job is the job, and the lives of some need to be spared for the lives of others.

Reaching a fork in the corridors, Harriet guided them to the right passageway, but Vine moved to the left. Arching her eyebrow at him, she called out his name. But he did not answer.

“Vine! What are you doing?! What’s wrong with the both of you today?!” Harriet looked back at Elm, and looked confused when she did not see Vine directly behind her. She was in deep thought as she walked the hallways she knew like the back of her hand, so she did not notice that she had gotten too ahead of the team. When she went back to Elm, she noticed the older woman was holding her weapon defensively, confused and resolute.

“What’s-?” She jerked at the sight of Vine casually putting his arm around Watts shoulder, looking at them with a grin.

“You are not Vine, are you?” Questioned Elm, to which Vine tilted his head and touched his lips with his pointer finger. He grinned, and moved his palm in front of his face, revealing his new eyes: one pink, and one brown. Elm roared in anger, and at him, Timber armed and ready. Not-Vine waved at them, inciting them to a fight. Harriet did not waste a second, and sped right at Vine with a shout, but when she reached him, he broke in tiny pieces of crystal. He was gone, and with him, Watts had disappeared as well. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! You made it out!! Thank you so much for reading!  
> Sit tight for the second chapter of Three Blind Mice, stay safe you guys!


End file.
